


Boldly to Go

by Fabrisse



Category: Glee, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Trills, Vulcan, kblreversebang2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:03:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly promoted Commander T’Kurt teaches a class in Cross-cultural and Cross-species anthropology while waiting for his first command to be fully outfitted.  He finds himself falling for a young Trill in his class.</p><p>Illustrated by Guffawed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boldly to Go

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a delight working with Guffawed and there are several illustrations linked in the story. 
> 
> I loved _Star Trek_ \-- especially _The Next Generation_ for years. It was wonderful to have an excuse to watch some of them again, and lots of _Deep Space Nine_ for Trill culture and _The Original Series_ for Vulcan culture. I also watched many Vulcan episodes of _Enterprise_. I really liked the beagle. 
> 
> Anyway, in my younger days, I also read a great many of the tie-in books. Some of the Vulcan cultural information comes from _The Vulcan Academy Murders_ which I haven’t read in years and other tie-ins. Lastly, I reference the book _Mirabile_ by Janet Kagan (who also wrote the _Star Trek_ novel _Uhura’s Song_ ).

So much had changed since his academy days, himself most of all. As a young Vulcan, he had felt the need to represent his people at Starfleet Academy according to its highest ideals. He had kept himself aloof from most others, his roommate, Artie Abrams being a notable exception, even though he had chosen to go through the general command track, rather than keeping to the Vulcan classes. Most of his fellow Vulcans would be serving together, but he had chosen to follow in the steps of Spock and T’Pol and serve with other species – which in practice meant serving on predominantly human ships.

He heard them before he saw them, a group of cadets singing a currently popular song in an unaccompanied style. When he turned the corner, he caught the eye of the young Trill singing lead and their eyes locked for the rest of the song. Just as he was about to compliment them, one of the Trill’s compatriots tugged at his shoulder and they all ran away.

Still, T’Kurt found himself thinking of the music and the lead singer for the rest of the day.

***  
It took a little effort to find the room for his Advanced Cultural Anthropology seminar. As a cadet at the Academy, Blaine was not used to being in the General Staff area which was usually reserved for the post-graduate classes taken by serving officers who were being promoted or changing duties. 

There was a long table with chairs around it similar to the observation lounge on a starship. Sitting at a small table in the front of the room was a handsome Vulcan in command red.

His tablet updated as he entered the room. Wes and D’vid were already at the table, staring at a slide on the wall which said simply “Instructor: T’Kurt.” Several other students came in and checked their tablets before looking at the same slide.

It didn’t take long for conversations to start, including one about whether they could leave if the teacher didn’t show up. At the end of ten standard minutes, a young woman from the Earth Colony on Mirabile said, “I have better things to do than wait around for some chick to come tell me I’m culturally insensitive.”

Blaine smiled at her. “You said your name is Santana, right?”

“Yeah, what’s it to you, Spotty?”

Blaine said, “The teacher has been sitting here since before I came in. He might mark you down for leaving class.”

T’Kurt stood and Santana sat down. 

“From your discussion, I think our Trill friend…?”

“Blaine”

T’Kurt continued, “Blaine is the only one who worked out that I’m your instructor. Cadet Lopez, why is that?”

She shrugged. “Everyone knows the ‘T’ in front of a Vulcan name means it’s a woman.” She peered at him closely. “I’m pretty sure you’re a guy, but with that skin, maybe not.”

“I am indeed male.” T’Kurt said, “Does everyone concur that you made an assumption based on my name?”

Wes said, “Yes, sir,” and D’vid nodded beside him.

“So, let us explore your assumption. How might a Vulcan male have a female name?”

The silence drew out until finally a human named Jeff said, “Well, in most Earth cultures there are a few people who have their genders reassigned. Does that happen on Vulcan?”

“It is rare, but not unknown,” T’Kurt said. “Your logic is actually impeccable, but it is, in my case, incorrect.”

D’vid said, “You are a man who prefers men I think? Were you given a woman’s name when you proved woman-ish?” Everyone’s eyes snapped to look at him. “By Klingon standards, even I am woman-ish by joining Starfleet,” he added with a small smile.

T’Kurt inclined his head in acknowledgement. “While same sex relations were stigmatized on some planets, it was never the case on Vulcan. Still, your use of logic was strong, if your assumption had not been flawed.”

Wes said, “I know! Your name was Skurt, but you found out it had another connotation in Standard and dropped the ‘S’.”

“There are two flaws in your assumption, so you don’t even get points for logic.”

Wes said, “What’s the second assumption?”

Santana grinned. “I think the first is that a male Vulcan has to have a name beginning with ‘S’.”

“It’s understandable,” T’Kurt said, “for many years the only male Vulcans humans met had names that honored Surak by beginning with ‘S.’ While the practice is common, it’s not as widespread as most outworlders think.” He paused. “Blaine, you haven’t contributed.”

Blaine said, “I have an advantage. I know the meaning of the ‘T’ though I admit, I thought the practice of using the place names of the family was mostly for women. I wonder if you took it as an adulthood name.”

“Well reasoned. I did take it as my name in adulthood according to the Rite of Thirteen. My mother was the last of her line, and she died when I was ten. My father and I discussed the possibility of my changing from my birth name to honor her. He agreed that it was logical.”

Wes said, “So you get one name at birth, but a chance to choose another name at thirteen. And most folks just keep the same name?”

T’Kurt said, “A succinct summation. Usually those who are going to attempt the kohl-i-nar before their first pon farr are the only ones to change their name from the one given them by their parents.”

Blaine said, “I’m sorry that you lost your mother so young.”

“The young do not understand that grief is a process which takes us through illogic. It is difficult to accept death when young.” 

T’Kurt faced the class. “The reason that I presented the first lesson in this way was to show you that the briefings we are given on the cultural histories and courtesies of the species with whom we serve are, necessarily, inadequate. There are often regional variations, or as was pointed out by Santana and D’vid cultural implications for gender or sexual orientation. You saw a name on a wall and assumed a woman would be entering the room even though there was someone of the correct rank to be an instructor and the correct planet of origin to match the name sitting in the room with you. This seminar will be all about examining logically your assumptions about your own cultures and those of the people in this room. It will give you a structure for learning to ask the right questions of the people with whom you will serve. What you learn here could help you survive if you’re ever in a first contact situation.” 

***  
Blaine’s roommate Trent had been on a brief training flight when the semester started, and he was throwing himself back into his course work with renewed vigor.

The first weekend after his return, he suggested to Blaine that they request an overnight pass and beam to Quebec City for the weekend. Blaine looked at his homework and said, “This is probably the only weekend when I could do that.”

Over a cocktail at the Chateau Frontenac, Trent said, “So who is he?”

“Who is who?”

“The man that’s got you moody and preoccupied. I’ve been rooming with you for three years, I know the signs.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “It’s not like... some of the others. This feels like it could be something epic.”

Trent smiled. “Didn’t they all?”

“Nah. I like sex just as much as any other healthy young Trill or human or Bajoran or...”

Trent laughed. “I get the point. It’s not like you haven’t cleared the room a few times for my friends to come over.” He took a sip of his drink, “But this... it is a guy, right?”

“Yes, I’m still same-sex attracted. No, I’m still not going to make a pass at you.”

Trent raised an eyebrow. “Your loss, my spotted friend.”

Blaine chuckled. “At least I can unwrinkle my nose.”

“This guy?”

“Do you remember that day we scandalized everyone by singing acapella?”

“Oh, no. It’s that Vulcan officer you serenaded at the top of the steps? I knew that was some arcane mating ritual.”

Blaine ordered another round of drinks, then said, “He teaches my seminar in Cultural Anthropology. He’s about to get his first command and he filled in for the regular instructor while he’s completing the advanced command course.”

“Vulcans are always working,” Trent said. “He’s your instructor?”

“Just until the end of the semester. By the time the Terrans celebrate a new year, he won’t be.”

“And in the meantime, you’re going to pine and pretend you’re not jerking your dick off when we turn the lights out.”

Blaine paid for the drinks and said, “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t even know whether he’s same sex oriented. I mean, he said he was, but that was when we were speculating about his name. It’s possible it was a ruse.”

Trent mimed banging his head against the table. “Really? Well, he seemed into your singing voice.”

There was long pause while they sipped their drinks.

Trent said, “C’mon. Let’s go explore the city. Maybe we can find a club with a nice boy who looks Vulcan.”

“I’m not interested in anyone else.” Blaine caught Trent’s scowl and said, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be your wingman.”

***  
T’Kurt came in just as the class was due to start. At his place was a large fruit. He looked at it and said, “I have heard the Earth phrase ‘an apple for the teacher,’ but I am unsure why I have been so honored.” He peered at it. “I also believe this is not an apple.”

Blaine said, “It’s a quince. Since you asked us to look into local customs, I thought I would honor this one, but apply appropriate logic.”

“Continue.” T’Kurt sat back and steepled his fingers to listen.

“The quince is the precursor to the apple, but most humans find it too sour. However, since most Vulcans consider apples too sweet, a quince would likely be more pleasing to the Vulcan palate. And I placed the quince on top of the paper, so you might remember my diligence when you graded it.”

There was a slight twitch of the lips that might mean he was amused, so Blaine counted it a win.

T’Kurt said, “Most logical. I shall let you know whether it pleases _this_ Vulcan palate, though the sample is too small for you to draw more general conclusions. Santana Cadet Lopez, I believe you have the presentation this week.”

Santana said, “Sure.” She shared her data to everyone’s padd and began. “Look, Mirabile was a lost colony. Earth sent us out before first contact with Vulcan – before there were ships with warp drive – and then they forgot about us through three generations of travel and another ten or so generations of life on the planet. When that Betazed ship stumbled across us ten years ago, it took us several days to realize they were speaking Standard. In nearly three hundred years, the language had drifted.”

D’vid said, “Was that your culture shock?”

“No. I’m the first person to come to the academy from my planet.” She nodded at Wes. “I know you’re an off-world human, too, but…”

“Hong Kong Luna never lost contact with Earth,” Wes said.

“Earth-authentic was our cry. There were redundancies built in to every seed and embryo in our stores. Extra helices that, once the primary crop was established would cause the organism to bloom or breed red – so that we could see which ones it would be – and then produce something else. A lot of them were chimera, not quite daffodil, for instance, but not quite bumblebee. Then the chimera would produce the next step up in the chain, like a real bumblebee.”

Blaine said, “That’s fascinating. Could you help me find out more about how they did that?”

“Yeah, just promise not to try it on me.” Santana shook her head. “We ended up with kangaroo rexes and frankenswine. I mean, it’s great that the Tasmanian wolf is no longer extinct even if its habitat is now sixty light years away, but there are entire civilizations that have nothing to do with Earth. We just assumed the Betazed were human until the second ship joined them. And I’m not at all sure what would have happened if our first encounter had been a Klingon.” She nodded at D’vid and said, “No offense.”

“None taken.”

Santana thought for a moment. “There’s a sense of interdependence on Mirabile that I miss here. I can see how the academy is training us to take a small place in a larger organization and to figure out how our specialties fit, but it’s not the same. There, once the openers had mapped a territory and the jasons had figured out what species might be useful to humans in it or could adapt to the EC, we moved in groups to form villages or towns. Openers might go off alone, but no one else really did.”

T’Kurt asked, “Does this mean there were no introverts on your world?”

“No, on a pioneer world, you’d better be able to stand your own company and be willing to turn your hand to anything. It’s not that we didn’t believe in self-realization. Most adults have multiple careers in a lifetime, and as long as you’ve trained a successor for the previous profession, that was fine. But even those people who stayed to themselves were always part of a town. That’s just not true here. Maybe it’s because we knew humans were an endangered species on Mirabile.”

She looked around the table. “So, who has questions about my culture?”

*** 

Blaine nodded to his friends that he’d catch up to them and stopped to speak to his teacher. “I hope you didn’t mind the ‘apple for the teacher’ thing.”

“Not at all.” 

“Would you like to go out for a raktajino or, no, that’s probably too much caffeine for a Vulcan, something else this weekend?”

T’Kurt inclined his head. “You are still my student. However, it occurs to me that this seminar only lasts a single semester. I would like to know if you think your friends might think I show you favoritism.”

“Yeah. The class is only sixteen weeks. We’re already halfway through.”

“Hence midterms next week.”

Blaine said, “Of course. I wasn’t thinking. No. No one will think you show favoritism. I hope you won’t think badly of me for asking. God, I really hope you weren’t just saying you’re same-sex oriented to make a point.”

T’Kurt said, “No, I wasn’t. Thank you for the invitation, even if I cannot accept.”

Blaine smiled and said, “There’s another thing you should know. Quince was thought to be the golden apple. In Earth mythology, it was presented ‘to the fairest.’”  


There was a faint green tint of a blush on T’Kurt’s cheek. “You are learning many things about human culture, including how to flatter.” He made a shooing gesture. “Work just as diligently to pass your exams, Mister Blaine.”

*** 

T’Kurt poured out two glasses of liqueur and handed one to his old roommate. “I was unable to get Saurian brandy, but I thought this would be an acceptable substitute.” He raised the glass in a toast. “To your promotion.”

Commander Artie Abrams raised his glass in return and said, “To yours, Commander T’Kurt.” He took a sip and said, “This is very good.”

“I am pleased that it pleases you.”

Artie looked at his old friend and said, “You didn’t just call me here to toast our promotions.”

“No. Have you taken up your post officially yet?”

Artie shook his head. “No, I don’t become an academy department head until next week. Is this about the class you’re teaching?”

“One of the students asked me out.”

Artie smirked into his drink. “It’s not the first time. Just use the standard Vulcan version of ‘I don’t play for your team.’”

T’Kurt raised an eyebrow.

“Ah. You do play for his team. And?”

“He’s intelligent and aesthetically pleasing.”

Artie said, “Tell me you didn’t accept.”

“It would have been illogical to accept. If there were another seminar on the same subject next semester, I would recommend he take it without incurring penalty. There isn’t, and he is nearing graduation.”

“Do you trust yourself to grade him fairly?”

T’Kurt said, “Of course. But I worry about appearances.”

“Ah.” Artie held out his glass and T’Kurt poured him another. “I’ll read his papers if you like.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll give you two without names and see if our judgments match as to the relative merits.”

Artie leaned back and sipped his drink. “That makes sense. And when the semester is over, hell, when he graduates and you take your command?”

T’Kurt said, “If he asks again after the semester, I will have a raktajino with him. If things progress from there...”

“I hope it does, my man. You’ve been a lonely man, well, Vulcan, for too long.” He grinned. “Did you try the name experiment?”

“Yes, and he was the only one who worked it out. I also like that he did not refer to the Vulcan Rite of Thirteen as my Bar Mitzvah.”

Artie laughed. “It made sense to me. The situations are analogous.”

T’Kurt smiled at his friend and clinked his glass. “Yes, I suppose they are.”  
*** 

Blaine completed his presentation on Trill and asked for questions.

Wes said, “How old are you?”

Blaine said, “What?”

D’vid chimed in, “What’s your age?”

Blaine thought for a moment. “In standard years, I am either twenty-one standard, which is my host’s age and the answer I usually give, or I am just over two hundred which is my symbiont’s age. As a joined entity, I’m three. It was a young blending.”

Jeff asked, “Do you remember your other lives?”

“I… there’s a ritual we go through to know our symbiont’s past lives. I know more physics than I trained for because Blaine blended with two physicists.”

Santana said, “What are your taboos? Have you broken any?”

T’Kurt said, “Blaine, you are not required to answer the second question.”

“No, it’s a good one and interesting.” Blaine thought for a moment. “One taboo is that we don’t lead the same type of life every blending. The other two that I can think of are that the first couple of blendings are low risk for the symbiont. Nothing is set in stone, but the idea is to have a wide variety of experiences to share. That doesn’t happen if you die in your first blending. The other one is that we don’t associate with the same group of people from blending to blending. This is particularly true of romantic situations. It’s not unheard of for a Trill to run into someone from a previous life or even, in some cases to renew a friendship after several years in the new host, but it’s discouraged as much as feasible.”

He blew out a deep breath. “That’s the one I’ve broken, but it was a special case approved by the various entities that regulate Trill blendings, not something I deliberately sought out.”

Jeff grinned. “You are so going to tell us about it.”

T’Kurt said, “It is your choice whether or not to tell.”

Blaine said, “My first blending was Krina. She was an archivist, a good one, who went home at night and painted landscapes. After a few years, she showed some and then sold some, and by her thirty-fifth year, Krina was an artist full time. She married, bore three children – and let me say, I never want to give birth again – divorced her husband, worked with light sculpture, lost her sight, and became a sculptor in clay. I was with her for seventy years.”

He took a moment, then continued, “One of the strangest moments after my current blending was stopping at Antares V on my way back to the academy. There was a beautiful fountain in a public square and I recognized it as one of a Krina Blaine’s. It came from the time after she’d lost her sight. I knew every swoop and texture of it with my hands, but I’d never seen it.”

There was a long pause. “The blendings that broke the taboo were twin brothers Arnesh and Quenesh.”

Jeff said, “You’re Quenesh Blaine?” 

Santana said, “You were Arnesh Blaine? But he was so far ahead of his time. We’re still trying to work out some of his theoretical physics.”

Blaine nodded. “And most Starfleet ships have shielding algorithms designed by Quenesh Blaine based on his brother’s work. The twins were on a vacation with their parents as children. Arnesh became ill and by the time they were back on Trill, his vital organs had been damaged, badly enough that he was likely to die young. He and Quenesh both applied young to be hosts, and Arnesh’s extraordinary gifts as a theoretical physicist allowed him to be accepted in spite of his poor health. The family asked that if Arnesh died before they were twenty-five his symbiont be implanted in Quenesh in order to carry on the applications of his work. I had less than five years with Arnesh and nearly fifty-four with Quenesh. I fathered five children with two wives, and, complete coincidence, one of his grandchildren married one of Krina’s great-grandchildren.”

He smiled to himself. “My most recent blending was Sallust Blaine. He applied to be a host after his wife died. He kept a small jewelry shop in the capital and repaired antique gear-driven machines for fun. I felt more like a stepfather to his two boys, but some of that may have to do with his being nearly forty when we blended – right at the top edge of the range as Arnesh had been at the lowest end of the range. Of course, in emergencies, there have been older and a very few younger blendings.”

Santana said, “If Blaine isn’t your host name, why do you use it? You keep referring to the other blendings by the host names.”

Blaine sighed. “Do you remember Wes’s theory about T’Kurt’s name being embarrassing in Standard?”

They all nodded.

“He modeled it on my name. In Trill, ‘Jizzing’ means ‘a noble beast’ similar to an Earth bear or a Vulcan sehlat.”

Wes, D’vid, and Jeff cracked up, and Santana shrieked with laughter as she said, “Really, ‘Jizzing’?”

T’Kurt calmed them, “Which is why he chooses to go by the symbiont’s name.”

Blaine shrugged. “I debated whether to just adopt a name from another culture. The Earth name ‘Arthur’ would have had a similar meaning, but it felt like cheating.”

“Thank you for your presentation, Mister Blaine,” Kurt said. “Everyone please remember to read Jessamine’s book on kinship relationships for Friday. D’vid will give his insights into Klingon culture on Monday.”

Wes said, “Our acapella group is performing on Saturday. I hope you’ll come hear us.”

“That would be most pleasant.”

*** 

About three weeks later, at the end of class, T’Kurt said, “There will be a holiday next week. If any of you has no plans, there will be what the local inhabitants call a potluck in my quarters from one to four. You may bring any dish you choose.”

D’vid said, “Even _gagh_?”

“I understand its cultural significance,” T’Kurt said.

D’vid chuckled. “Well spoken, Vulcan. You need not worry. The Klingon students are having a feast that day which I and Wes plan to attend.”

T’Kurt hoped his relief wasn’t too obvious.

Blaine said, “Would you mind if my roommate came along?”

“It is an open house. You and your roommate would be welcomed.”

Santana said, “I’ll be there, too. Is meat acceptable?”

“As long as you accept that I will not partake.”

***  
Artie looked up from the computer and said, “I agree with both grades. The first paper was well written, but needed deeper analysis, and the second one used statistics without explaining their significance clearly.”

T’Kurt nodded. “Good. If you don’t mind, I’ll have you review the final exams the same way.”

“Not a problem. Is he coming to your Thanksgiving open house?”

“Yes.”

Artie grinned. “I’ll see if I can figure out which one he is then.”

***  
The sliced turkey and other meat dishes had been put on a small side table. The larger table had a wide variety of vegetable dishes, but Blaine was happy to note that his were the first asparagus and there didn’t seem to be any other Brussels sprout dishes, since that was what Trent had prepared.

He turned and saw T’Kurt and made the Vulcan salute, “Live long and prosper.”

“Peace and long-life,” T’Kurt answered. “I am pleased that you joined us.”

Blaine pulled on Trent’s hand and said, “This is my roommate, Trent.”

“You are welcome. Had I known, I would have asked Blaine for a report on your planet. I find the spiritual emphasis of Bajor fascinating.”  


Trent said, “Not illogical? Because that’s what I’ve heard from most of the Vulcans in our year.”

T’Kurt said, “What I’ve read of Bajoran religious disciplines seems to mirror the exercises in logic training we undergo. It does help that Captain Sisko was an emissary to your prophets.”

Santana came up to them and said, “So, Teach, where’s the fire? Every Vulcan dorm room I’ve been in has been in oranges and reds with an attunement flame front and center.”

Trent looked at her speculatively and said, “You could have too small a sample.”

Blaine added, “And most dorm rooms are just rooms. Faculty get a separate bedroom.”

Santana shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m beginning to be able to read Vulcans and Teach, here, is amused.”

“If you prefer not to use my rank, you have permission to use my name,” T’Kurt said.

She shrugged. “All right, T’Kurt. You’re amused.”

“Examine your assumptions.”

Blaine said, “The first one is that all Vulcans attune as the teachings of Surak indicate. You’ve said enough in class that I think that assumption is valid in your case.”

Artie maneuvered his chair toward the cluster of people just in time to hear his friend say, “It is.”

There was a long pause. Finally, Trent said, “Where does Vulcan’s air come from? We always talk about it as a desert planet with high gravity and heat, but most planets like that are uninhabited because they lack air.”

Jeff said, “But what does that have to do with T’Kurt’s attunement flame?”

“The colors in here aren’t desert colors,” Blaine said.

T’Kurt bent his head in acknowledgement. “Your friend has an interesting point. And I am from the northern pole of Vulcan, one of the few places with forest and, if you will, the lungs of our planet.”

Blaine thought for a moment. “You attune, but there aren’t desert colors. You implied, though it may be another assumption, that you don’t have a flame in your bedroom either.”

Artie muttered, “Though I’m sure he’ll give you a chance to find out.”

T’Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.

Jeff said, “So you don’t attune through flame?”

“That is correct. The majority of Vulcans use flame for attunement, but I am in the ten percent minority which does not find fire calming. I attune through sound. There is a smaller minority who use scent. And fewer than one percent use touch.”

“Which sounds?” Blaine asked.

“For meditation, wind in trees, rain – here in San Francisco, the sound of waves. To attune in other ways, music. I’m quite fond of the historic Terran style known as be-bop.”

Artie grinned. “Yes, he means it. I roomed with him when we were cadets. I heard a lot of recordings by someone named Dizzy.”

“The mathematics of be-bop are, truly, fascinating,” T’Kurt said.

They spent time fixing plates and finding places to sit and eat. The conversation went from general to side conversations and back over the course of the afternoon.

After various pies were served, Blaine found himself wandering around the room looking at the small things on the tables and shelves. He picked up a photograph of two Vulcan women sitting together with a child standing to either side. T’Kurt appeared beside him.

Blaine pointed at the boy who looked about ten standard and said, “I think he looks like you.”

“More like his mother, T’Bok. That’s her partner V’Mal beside her, and our daughter, V’Lek.”

Blaine said, “You are not the husband to either of them… or both of them?”

“No.” T’Kurt said, “My father understood even before I did that I was not one who could be happy with a woman for a life partner. T’Bok’s parents were similarly enlightened. We became friends, and when I went through my first Pon farr, she agreed to help me through the problem, as long as I agreed that any child would be hers and V’Mal’s. Since I was still unattached seven years later, V’Mal asked for the chance of a child. It was logical that the biological father be the same, and it allowed me to fulfill my duty to Vulcan to pass along my genes.” He smiled fondly at the picture. “The children are nearly twice that age now, but I like this picture of the family.”

“What’s your son’s name?”

T’Kurt said, “Subar.” He put the photograph back on the shelf.

“I’m sorry our seminar will be over soon. I’ve enjoyed it. Enjoyed learning from you.”

“Final grades must be in by twenty December as they say around here.”

Blaine said, “Will you be staying over the six week holiday?”

“It’s not enough time to get to Vulcan and back, but I may take a day trip or two to other parts of Earth. When I was at the academy before, I spent quite a bit of time in Japan and China. This time, I want to see Egypt or Rome.”

“On your own?”

T’Kurt smiled faintly. “Perhaps. I also enjoy compatible company.”

Artie rolled up to them. “I’m heading out. I’m taking the last of the pecan pie with me if you don’t mind.”

T’Kurt said, “I would be relieved. Please feel free to take any of the meat dishes with you as well.”

Artie grinned and said, “I’ll pack up turkey for sandwiches, then, thanks.”

Blaine said, “Trent and I should be going, too.”

“I know it’s four o’clock, but that was a guideline, not a requirement.”

Blaine said, “I know, but I promised Trent that we’d go to Rangoon tomorrow to comfort him after his latest lady friend dumped him. We must get up unreasonably early to make up for the time difference.”

“I understand. Please take anything you’d like with you.”

Trent heard him. “I’d love some more of the key lime pie. And I’m pretty sure you’re not going to eat the sausage dish.”

“I am not, and I would be glad to have you enjoy it.”

A few minutes later, in the hallway back to their room, Trent said, “You two couldn’t take your eyes off each other.”

“What?”

Trent rolled his eyes. “I know you’re into him. I’m telling you that he’s into you, too. When’s your semester over?”

“Same time as everyone else.”

“No, I mean, when’s he not your teacher any more?”

Blaine said, “T’Kurt told me he has to have the grades in on the twentieth of next month.”

Trent sighed. “He told you. He’s into you.”

***  
At 12:01 a.m. on December 21, T’Kurt heard his computer alert him to a message. It read: Since you are no longer my teacher, would you like to have raktajino tomorrow? I’m free at ten. – Blaine

T’Kurt wrote back: I will be at the coffee shop on the plaza.

***  
Their first date lasted the whole day. They spent it talking and going through the deYoung Museum. They stopped in Chinatown for a vegetarian dinner before finally heading back to the campus. Blaine walked T’Kurt to his door and said, “I don’t know what to do now. What’s appropriate. What culture to follow.”

“Rather than choose between ours, let’s take our cues from the local culture. You have walked me home after our first date.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Blaine’s lips. “That is, according to local custom, the appropriate level of intimacy.”

Blaine pulled him back for a deeper kiss. 

When they broke apart, T’Kurt said, “I will now ask you for a second date. Tomorrow? We can meet for coffee again.”

“And after coffee, can I take you to the botany building? I want you to see what I love,” Blaine said.

“I would be honored.”

***  
Their fourth date was to Muir Woods. 

They had rapidly passed the talking phase on their dates, and now walked companionably together without needing constant chatter. 

Blaine said, “This fascinates me. Every planet has something that produces the oxygen or other gases for survival, but these trees have different eco systems in their canopies. The oldest ones around us may have begun to grow when the Roman Empire still dominated Europe. They’re magnificent.”

T’Kurt looked up in wonder. “Would it be all right if I sat here for awhile to attune?”

Blaine nodded. “If it wouldn’t disturb you, may join you?”

“Yes.”

T’Kurt pulled a blanket from his pack and set it out on a small clearing. He sat carefully and said, “On Vulcan, when friends meditate together, they often do it back to back.”  


“Won’t that trigger your telepathic potential?”

“That’s only with bare skin.” He patted the area behind him.

Blaine sat and found a comfortable position. He could feel T’Kurt’s ribs expand with slow breaths and let his breathing fall into the same pattern. As they synchronized, Blaine could hear T’Kurt’s high, clear voice begin a simple chant. On the next breath, he joined softly, and found their voices harmonized.

For the next twenty minutes, the clearing held the soft scents of damp wood, the soughing of the wind through the boughs, and their voices softly rising and falling. At the very last, there was a moment of plangent stillness before they wordlessly stood and packed up the blanket. 

They walked back down the trail to the public transporter pad hand in hand.

***  
When they got back to campus, Blaine said, “There’s a really good Indian food place that delivers. My roommate is out for the evening and we could hang out there, I mean, if it’s not too… um, forward.”

T’Kurt looked at their joined hands. “We are past forward. Would you like to come back to my suite? We can still order Indian food, and we would not need to worry about your roommate’s return.”

Blaine stared at him for a moment. “Are you asking me to spend the night?”

“Well, first we share dinner and possibly play chess. After that, we can see where the night takes us.”

Blaine grinned and looped his arm through T’Kurt’s. “I highly recommend their bhindi masala, and I’ll probably need at least a bishop handicap against you.”

***  
It was before midnight on New Year’s Eve, but they’d chosen not to go out. Instead, they had bought exotic finger foods from specialty places all over town and come back to T’Kurt’s suite to make love.

Now, in the aftermath, they were stretched out in front of the large window in the bedroom with soft comforters and pillows around them to watch the fireworks that would start at midnight. 

Blaine was still sleepy and sated, but T’Kurt was kissing him gently across the forehead and down his neck. As soft lips brushed his ear, Blaine heard, “Thirty-nine, forty…”

“Are you counting my spots?”

T’Kurt said, “It is logical to know how many you have.” 

The soft words across his skin made Blaine shiver with anticipation. He said, “While you’re following the dots, there are some other areas that would appreciate attention.”

“Seventy-eight.” T’Kurt looked down his body. “No extra attention appears to be needed. Your penis responds quite well to spot counting.” His tongue flicked out as he counted the next spot. “In fact, I predict that by the time I get here…” he touched a place just behind Blaine’s left ear, “You will come without further assistance from either of us.”

Blaine cupped his lover’s chin and looked affronted when their eyes met. “How did I end up with the only Vulcan tease?”

T’Kurt’s eyebrow went up. “I believe the human phrase is, ‘just lucky, I guess.’”

Blaine giggled, then moaned as T’Kurt continued his ministrations.

 

***  
Once vacation was over, Blaine and T’Kurt were quickly accepted as a couple by both sets of friends. They also found that their respective schedules for the next several months did not allow them as much time together as they would have liked. 

T’Kurt would be spending one week a month on the space station where his ship was being completed and fitted for service. Blaine had a four week xenobotany practicum in Australia that would be preceded by two weeks at the Pacifica habitat under the ocean near Hawai’i and followed by two weeks in Antarctica. 

The time they had together they spent well -- a long weekend in Luxor in February, the spring break in Italy, evenings attending theater, lectures, and concerts and nights spent learning how much they loved each other.

***  
Trent came back to the room to find his roommate lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling. He said, “Where’s your more logical half?”

“He was called up to the station -- something about the configuration of the enlisted quarters.”

“And so you’re just lying there pining.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Actually, I just got back from an all nighter in the botany lab. Santana’s family sent her some Mirabilan plants and a couple of chimera that had cropped up among the earth plants. The amount of imagination that went into that voyage was amazing.”

Trent smiled. “You’re still pining.”

Blaine said, “No, it’s… knowing that I want this to go on forever and in a few months it will end.”

“You don’t know that. May I?” He extended his hand toward Blaine’s left ear. “Your _pah_ is filled with strong emotion.”

“I love him.”

Trent nodded. “So tell him. Ask him for a long-term relationship.”

“He’s going to be commanding a starship. I’ll be a junior ensign in the sciences division.”

“That’s not insurmountable.”

Blaine said, “Maybe not. But when we’re, um, intimate – it’s like I can feel his mind reaching a hand out to me, mixed metaphor, but I keep reaching for it, wanting to grasp his mental hand.”

“Why don’t you?”

“When I try, he stops. Everything. He’s told me that creating the bond is easy, but severing it could cause pain, so… but I want him. Want the bond.”

“I wish I knew what to say.”

Blaine said, “I know we’ll end. I don’t want it. I don’t think T’Kurt wants it. It’s just the exigency of circumstances. So I make certain that every time we’re together, we’re happy. Because when I look back, or he does, I want the memory to be a good one.”

“There’s one good thing to come out of this,” Trent said, “I feel a lot less bad about my last break up.”

***  
T’Kurt knocked on the door of Artie’s quarters with a bottle of liqueur tucked under his arm. He noted the wider door and lower doorbell and was once again amazed at how his old friend was adapting to his new life.

Artie greeted him and grinned at the brandy. “I knew you’d bring a bribe.”

“It is the least I can do for the hero of the Astute.”

Artie motioned to his chair. “I don’t feel like much of a hero.”

“It would be illogical for Starfleet to bestow a Medal of Valor on anyone less than heroic. You saved the lives of thirty people, most of them not in your section. Half of the Astute’s crew was lost, and you got the only full life pod off it after the explosion.”

“I know what I did. I just can’t believe that you or anyone else wouldn’t have done the same.”

T’Kurt said, “It’s what we all train for, but I am aware that most of your crewmates did not behave as you did.”

Artie nodded. “That’s not what you’re here to talk about. I can’t believe you don’t have your full crew selected yet.”

“There are only five positions I have yet to fill. I have an option to take a fully programmed holographic doctor, but I admit that I prefer it to be a back up rather than my chief medical officer. However, with eight species among my crew, perhaps…”

Artie said, “Go with your gut. Will you have a separate counselor?”

“No, although the chief of Xenobiology has a doctorate from Betazed in psychology. I have already sounded him out as a possible psychological advisor should the Vesalius end up in a first contact situation. It is not highly likely. Any planets we find with the indicators of civilizations, my standing orders are to contact the nearest Federation outpost or vessel for follow-up.”

“Then your crew will need someone to talk to.”

T’Kurt nodded and handed his friend a data padd. “As you can see, I have had three requests from candidates with excellent qualifications.”

“One’s a Vulcan. Do you have any other on board?”

“Most Vulcans withdrew their requests to serve when I indicated that I wanted a mixed ship rather than a predominantly Vulcan one. However, the chief of Astrophysics is Vulcan as are two junior officers in Xenozoology and one of the experimental engineers.”

“Would she be the best fit for the crew in other ways?”

T’Kurt said, “I think not. I included her because she is the only one of the three who has been a chief medical officer before.”

“What about your other department heads?”

“All but one has headed a department before, and that one has the requisite experience in other ways. Two of them have never been in space before, but their psychological and social evaluations indicate they will be good crewmates.”

“Then let’s put T’Cru to one side. Do you have any strong instincts about the other two?”

“More than half the crew will be human, though most of them were born off world. I am leaning toward Doctor Janet Teryl – human with experience on Betazeds, Bajorans, and Trill. I can request intensive training for her on the other species I know will be on board, and she could use the holographic doctor as a back-up.”

“Why not Kern?”

“He would be the only Klingon aboard, so if something went wrong with him we’d need to rely on the holographic doctor.” T’Kurt raised an eyebrow. “In the spirit of full honesty, I did not much care for him during our brief interview.”

“That’s what the interviews are for, to see whether personalities click. All right, then that leaves only four more decisions.”

“No, if the interviews are supposed to be a way of choosing among equals, then I must follow the logic.” T’Kurt took the padd back from Artie, and made two other selections. He handed back the padd and said, “First officer is not so easy.”

Artie glanced at the padd. “Quinn? She requested Vesalius?”

“I admit surprise when I saw her application. I verified that she knew she would be my subordinate. Our interview lasted longer than any of the others. I know she would not hesitate to question a decision she thought wrong.”

“I just worry she believes in Klingon promotion. When we were at the academy she was positive she’d be the first one with her own command. I know Vulcans don’t deal much in emotion, but did you detect any envy?”

“Some. It’s one reason the interview lasted as long as it did. Quinn brought it up, not I. I am convinced that she’s learned to bend a little, to adapt, rather than be certain everything she was taught was correct.”

“And Sebastian Smythe?”

“He has an excellent background. Every previous captain gave a glowing recommendation.”

Artie said, “I hear a ‘but.’”

“He never served one day beyond the minimum on any assignment. Is he merely what humans might call restless or did his captains give him glowing recommendations because it would get him off the ship faster. Logically, he is the better choice based on his wide background.”

“But you have a hunch.”

T’Kurt said, “Vulcans use logic.”

“Then why didn’t you just pick him?”

T’Kurt looked away. “Because I have a hunch Mister Smythe would bring trouble to the ship.” He reached for the padd. “Lieutenant Commander Fabray will be my first officer.”

“So. Who’s the last problem?”

“Blaine.”

Artie sipped his brandy. “I didn’t think the cadet requests came until after the class standings were announced. Or was this a private request.”

T’Kurt said, “It was – by the division chief for Xenobotany. Blaine will be salutatorian for the academy’s Xenobiology department. He currently ranks fifth overall in his class of three hundred and leads the standings in his specialty. The Vesalius is the first science vessel to be built since the Dominion War ended which makes the assignment prestigious in spite of an inexperienced commander. Furthermore, we will specialize in biological sciences which is rare in Starfleet. I told my department and division heads that, where possible, I would get their top picks from the current graduates.”

“So Blaine doesn’t know he’s being considered.” Artie thought for a moment, “Humans tend to think of Vulcans as unfeeling, but you don’t just reproduce based on optimal biology. You seek out connections and marry. Is that just for alliances?”

“No. There are still alliance marriages, but arranged marriages are becoming rarer. There have been psychological studies on compatibility and even on positive emotional balance that indicate Vulcans marry for love, though rarely in the hot headed way humans seem to think is best.”

“Then forgive me, as your friend, I want to tell you that I have never seen you happier than you’ve been since you started dating Blaine. Are you allowing married couples to serve on Vesalius?”

“Yes. Out of a crew of eighty there are ten married couples though none serve in line of command to each other. But Blaine and I have only been together for four months. Logically, we knew our time together would be finite.”

Artie sighed. “Then lay it out logically. What would be the best thing for Blaine’s career?”

“For us to end our relationship amicably and for him to serve under Lieutenant Commander Bareil in Xenobotany. The second best would be for him to speak to Bareil and withdraw his name, but that might have other repercussions.”

Artie said, “Would you be able to have him close to you without having the full relationship you have now?”

“A Vulcan is in control of his emotions. I would.”

“Even through your next Pon Farr?”

T’Kurt said, “Do you know what happens at a Vulcan wedding? An officiant links the minds of the two permanently. It is a bond that breaks with death. It is virtually impossible to ‘divorce’ in the way of Earth. Severing the bond without death is very difficult. When we are … intimate without marriage, two Vulcans may set up a temporary meld to enhance the experience of both. It’s discouraged with outworlders because with rare exceptions it is impossible for an outworlder to give genuine consent. They don’t know what it means, and, for many species, breaking a meld can be…”

“Painful. I remember what it was like the one time you and I had to meld.”

“I regret it caused you pain.”

Artie said, “I assume Blaine knows what you’re telling me.”

“He has begged me for the temporary meld, and it has taken great strength of will not to grant it.”

“You love him.”

“Yes. I want what’s best for him.”

“Then talk to him.”

T’Kurt poured them both another snifter of brandy. “Let him choose whether to serve or withdraw his name?”

Artie shook his head. “The real choice. Let him choose whether to serve with you as an ex or as a husband. Or he could still withdraw his name. He’s young, but he’s a grown man. Well, adult sapient being. And frankly, you should act like one yourself. Stop being all noble about his career and be logical about the choices. If you don’t want him with you, say so. Tell your Bajoran botanist that she’ll get her second choice. But if you do love him and want him beside you, then dammit, the choice is Blaine’s. So. What do you want?”

T’Kurt closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath. “I want to sleep in his arms until the end of my days.”

“Don’t talk to me about the human penchant for romantic claptrap. If you can say that with a straight face, you are far more of a romantic than any human I know.”

“It is not a logical relationship. Even though I’m older, I will probably outlive Jizzing, but Blaine will continue in another life.”

“Those are problems for a very distant future. You could make a wrong turn at Luna and hit an asteroid on your way out of the solar system. There’s an old Earth saying, ‘never borrow trouble.’ Ask him. Be as eloquent with him as you’ve been tonight, and I have no doubt that I’ll be dancing – for a given value of dancing – at your wedding. I assume you’ll wear white.”

T’Kurt said. “I’ll wear whatever Blaine tells me is traditional for Trill.”

***  
T’Kurt exited the shuttle as soon as the hangar had pressurized. He saw the eighty people under his command and walked over to his first officer. 

“I have the conn, Mister Fabray.”

Quinn stood back as he approached the podium on one side of the room.

“Welcome to all of you. This is an historic day -- the first science ship commissioned since the Dominion War ended. We are lucky to have the best scientific facilities of any current starship. It is logical that we take them to explore and learn more of the galaxy shared by our species.

“I look forward to serving with such a distinguished and diverse group of scientists and engineers, and I hope to know each of you personally by the time we make our first planet fall which will be the recent Federation entrant Mirabile. We will be helping to map their second major continent. 

“Among those serving on Vesalius are fifteen civilians in a variety of departments. I know those in Starfleet service will welcome them as comrades and fellow experts. Lastly, he who is my husband is serving as a junior xenobotanist. In order to avoid any potential conflict, his evaluations and reviews will be handled by his division chief and signed by Lieutenant Commander Fabray.” 

He stepped back from the podium and approached the computer panel at the wall. “This is T’Kurt, Commander of this vessel.”

The computer’s voice came back. “Acknowledged. T’Kurt, Commander, Starfleet.”

T’Kurt said, “Commence service, professional, and personal logs for all ship’s personnel listed in your database.”

“Log access is now available to all crew.”

T’Kurt took a deep breath and spoke the traditional words to begin a ship’s assignment, “Commander’s log. Stardate 53209.6. _‘Space… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Vesalius. Its continuing mission-- to explore strange new worlds, to seek out and document new life. Boldly to go where no one has gone before.’_ End of log.”

He turned to the crew and said, “First shift begins in fifteen minutes.” To Quinn, he added, “I will be on the bridge in half an hour for departure. You have the conn, Number One.”

Quinn said, “Aye, Commander.”

He walked over to the end of one line and held out two fingers. Blaine’s fingers joined his, reigniting their bond as it did every time. They walked out of the hangar together, and Blaine said, “Boldly to go?”  


“Split infinitives are illogical.”  
  
Quinn Fabray smiled to herself, then turned to the assembled crew. “Make ready for departure. Dismissed.”


End file.
